A Beginning Part 3
by solista
Summary: Johnny returns to his family.


_**A BEGINNING **_

_**PART 3**_

At the sound of a gunshot the man jumped from the bed, grabbing his gun from the holster slung over the bedpost and made his way to the open window.

The thin curtain flapped in the cool breeze blowing in from outside. Naked as the day he was born, he glanced out into the dark... laughter drifting up from the darkness below.

A low muffled voice came from the bed he had just left, "come on back ta bed honey, 'sjust some drunk".

The woman patted the empty mattress beside her, "its cold over here all by my little lonesome."

In a slow drawl, keeping his eyes directed out of the window and staring into the dark, "in a bit... go back ta sleep."

A muffled response he could not make out was all he heard. Holding the six-gun in his right hand, he wiped the left down his face.

What was he doing... he was in California heading to some place he had never been, people he did not know. However, it was a promise he had made and he kept his promises... always kept his promises.

_**PROMISES**_

She leaned over the balcony, the low cut of her night shift and light shawl not much protection from the early morning coolness as she shivered and watched.

She blew a kiss from her fingertips to the young man riding out below her, he never looked up, and she kept vigil until he was out of sight.

Sighing she turned back into the cold room, a smile on her lips, Emma Mae Suddith could honestly say she _knew_ Johnny Madrid.

The sorrel gelding plodded along, head bobbing up and down with each well-placed hoof, Johnny was not in a hurry and let his horse set the pace.

Ten years ago... the town, his mother her Man and Murdoch Lancer, all come stampeding into his thoughts.

He must have disappointed his _father; _the man may not even want him anymore. A chuckle shook his slim shoulders, hell he would not want himself after the stunt he had pulled.

A frown turned his lips down, his blue eyes sad, and he remembered those lonely years...

Following his mother to Mexico City was one of his first mistakes. The young face took on a look of rage. Fury at how he had found his mother.

Her Man had left her in the street, destitute, begging for just a scrap of food. The nine-year-old son took charge of his mother and placed a roof over her head, he worked odd jobs to keep her fed, and she worked at _other things. _

He cooked and cleaned for her, she was his mother and he loved her... but the trust was gone.

He had grown up too fast and become too sharp to fall for her theatrics and promises of better times.

It was dark when thirteen-year-old Johnny trudged home from a backbreaking day at the livery.

He looked forward to a hot dinner and his cot... he rubbed at his shoulder where a spooked horse had pushed him into the stall siding... a hot bath would have been nice, sighing he knew that was not to be.

As he opened the door, Johnny could smell the perfume his momma loved to wear... but where had she gotten the money to buy it. Closing the door, he saw her, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen... his momma resplendent in a new dress.

She smiled at her little man and bid him to her.

"Come Juanito, dance with your mother," she twirled around in front of him, the green silk of her dress whispering to him, the starched and lacy petticoats peeking out from under the dress.

"Momma what have you done. Where did you get the money for all this," Johnny was mad he did not earn much at the stable and the other jobs no one wanted just enough for this hovel and food, nothing for... he closed his eyes, "Momma how did you get the money for this?"

Hands on hips she smiled, "Hijo, I did this for you; I will get you a new poppa tonight, come dance."

Blue eyes cautiously darting around the room, "Momma where is my saddle and bridle?"

Without waiting for an answer, he stumbled from the room and into the night. Making his way to the small lean to where he kept Frisco, the pinto Murdoch Lancer bought for him, his heart clenched... she wouldn't, she couldn't.

But the proof was before him... the lean to was empty his horse the only family he had in all the time he searched for his mother, was gone. He dropped to his knees... he did not cry, crying was of no use.

Pounding his hands against the dirt, he growled his rage. After a short while he straightened and sighed, nothing he could do about it now. Hands on knees he pushed up, stood and turned back to the house, feet dragging from exhaustion, and disappointment. Entering the dwelling, he looked at his beautiful mother.

She looked up as she wrapped the fine shawl around her shoulders, "I may be late getting home hijo, don't wait up. In the morning our life will be different," she moved over to him, took his chin in her small hand, and tilted his face up, "I did this for you my son, now smile for me and give me a kiss."

Johnny dutifully smiled and gave his mother's cheek a quick kiss, his eyes following her as she opened the door and stepped out into the night.

Hearing and seeing the door close he bowed his head, well he may not have the horse anymore, but he still had a promise to keep... it would just take a bit longer to keep it.

He was no longer hungry as he collapsed on his cot; rolling over onto his side, he tried to fall asleep.

Who ever had the pinto he hoped they took good care of him... he was a good horse and his amigo.

_**LEGEND IN THE MAKING**_

Johnny slipped the gun back into the holster the sound of metal over leather made him feel... complete and in control of his life.

His dark blue eyes looked up at the clapping and shouted, "Bueno, Juanito."

Carlos Montoya Rivera was smiling, he smiled a lot, Johnny thought he smiled too much and it bothered him... really bothered him.

That night a year ago in Mexico City when momma set out to find him a new _poppa_... this was he.

Rivera was a bandito, revolutionary, pistolero and he loved Maria Lancer with everything his cold heart had left in it.

Johnny he tolerated because of Maria, so to appease his lover he took the boy under his wing, "I will teach you many things Chico, for a mestizo you are not so bad. You have quick hands and a quick mind. You do as I tell you and you will be the best," with a chuckle Rivera said, "after me of course."

Johnny was quick to learn and he learned fully, things he locked away for use later and other _things _he would never do, he knew right from wrong, what lines to never cross, and in no way lose his soul.

He remembered his fifteenth birthday. To him it was just another day to his momma it was a day for a celebration... she loved to celebrate.

Maria was becoming bored with the life of a bandito; she was a creature of music, laughter and people. As her displeasure was made known to Carlos the man would just smile and buy or steal her some trinket, take her to a big town, court her and she was happy once more... for a time at least.

Johnny's _birthday celebration _began that morning as Carlos presented him with a new horse, a sorrel gelding complete with saddle and bridle... later that night the party continued in the town of Nogales.

Maria was in her element, the loud laughing, music, drinking and dancing. After his initial dance with his mother, Johnny took a seat in the back of the cantina and watched.

He was good at watching and listening, he nursed the one glass of tequila turning the small glass within his fingers. Giving the impression of boredom to anyone around him however, he was very aware of everything and everyone, lesson one from Carlos.

Under Carlos's tutelage, Johnny had learned to drink, though he seldom drank enough to render him insensible. If his mind was mixed-up on drink or drugs of any kind, he felt very vulnerable.

Johnny could feel a presence at his elbow, looking up from under his hat he smiled at the young senorita. He judged her a couple years older than him and pushed out a chair with the toe of his boot.

She was young and very pretty, Johnny looked over to where her brown eyes traveled and he saw Carlos, his arm around his mother's waist lifting a glass of tequila in salute.

Johnny's face flushed, he knew what went on between a man and woman. He had never experienced it, but Carlos had explained it all to his protégé in graphic detail all with a smile on his face.

Blue eyes looking once more at the senorita, "What's your name?"

Lowering her long black lashes, she spoke low, "Anna," looking up into blue eyes she smiled, "and you are Juanito and this is su cumpleanos."

"Johnny, call me Johnny, you don't have to do this you know," he touched her small hand. It was soft but strong, when she looked at him with her dark brown eyes his stomach began to flutter.

Smiling her eyes dancing, one shoulder shrugged, "This is my life... I feed mi familia. But this is your birthday we will celebrate, si."

Standing she held out her hand, "Come with me, Johnny. I am yours for the night; there are clean sheets on the bed and a new bottle of tequila."

Johnny could not ignore what his body was feeling; he grasped her hand and stood. Never looking at Carlos or his mother, he followed Anna up the stairs.

_**HARD LESSONS**_

He jumped from the bed, his gun in hand before his feet touched the floor. Gunshots, his mind a little confused from the tequila and the night of making love... gunshots and screams, Dios momma!

Quickly dressing he ignored the entreaties of the girl in the bed. Thoughts only on his mother, strapping the gun rig to his lean hips his fingers fumbled with the buckles. 'Dios come on work', buckles secured he ran to the door and flung it open.

Nearly tripping down the stairs in his haste, he came into a room of death. The gun in his right hand the left wiped a bead of sweat from his eyes.

Blue eyes taking in the destruction and death, many men lay dead, his thoughts only on one person... _momma_, booted feet slipped in the blood pooling on the floor the coppery smell invading his senses.

He found Carlos; gun gripped in death, brown eyes staring at nothing... the life long gone. Well he was not smiling now Johnny thought to himself.

Beside him lay Maria, her eyes searching her breath coming and going from her body in ragged gasps, "Juanito... hijo."

Johnny knelt beside her and pulled her onto his lap hugged her in his arms; he did not feel the warm blood seep into the knees of his pants. He wanted to cry to scream out his rage to kill some one for this pain in his heart and filled his soul with darkness.

He held his mother to his chest and rocked her as a child... she can't die. He needed her, without her he had nothing, please God do not take her.

The silent pleas he sent up to a God he hardly knew in hopes He would listen to someone such as him.

As he felt the trembling of her body, he knew no one could help, glancing around him expecting to see death in bodily form waiting to take his momma.

He felt a hand on his arm and looked down into her face... so beautiful, too young to be facing death.

He wanted to cry, but no moisture came from his gringo eyes or any sobs from his trembling lips.

His momma gasped then relaxed, calm in her eyes.

"Juanito, lo siento hijo... lo siento," the dark brown pools of her eyes locked onto the blue of her sons, "you are so like _him _so stubborn so strong. I tried hijo, I tried so hard."

She put a soft hand to his cheek, "I love you my son and now it is too late to be the mother I should have been. Forgive me... please do not hate me."

Blue eyes gazed into brown as mother and son looked their last... no words were needed.

Her hand slipped from his face and fell to her side, he did not need to see the life flee from her eyes or hear the last air rush from her lungs to know his momma was dead.

Laying her gently down he arraigned her hands to fold across her breast. He moved an errant curl from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

The final act was to place his fingers over the opened chocolate brown eyes, now lifeless, no longer tormented by pain or regret and close them forever.

He bent low and kissed her brow now growing cold, turning his trembling lips to her ear, in a quiet whisper, "I love you too momma, may the angels help you find peace, I will never hate you."

He then stood and looked around; Anna was on the stairs hands to her lips, tears in her eyes.

The cantina owner came around the bar, their eyes met and the older man could not look away.

The blue gringo eyes of the youth were cold and they froze him to the spot... he could not turn away as his head told his feet to run.

He listened intently to the voice... low and as cold as the blue eyes, "Who did this."

Mouth having gone dry he could barely croak out a reply, "Perez, Juan Perez... he and Carlos had a vendetta against each other for many years."

The dark haired young man nodded, "Gracias."

"I need someone to prepare my mother and Carlos for... and a priest," Johnny bowed his head. What did he know of burials of preparing bodies to meet their maker? However, he would see to it his momma had a proper funeral it would be his last act as a devoted son.

Moving to stand in front of the cantina owner, "You can find some one to take care of my mother?"

Anna had come down the stairs and stood at his elbow, "I will see to it Johnny."

Head bowed, "Gracias," he had to go from this place of death; he had to breathe fresh air.

"I will make her as if she is only sleeping," Anna said as she touched his arm.

"What of her jewelry," she inquired glancing at the body of the woman now empty of its life.

Johnny spoke low and she had to lean in to hear the words, "Take some to pay the priest and the under taker. You keep the rest; the cross will stay around her neck, the wedding band give to me."

Looking up once more at the owner, "Where can I find Perez?"

The voice the cantina owner heard was not that of a grieving child, it was of a man on a mission of death.

Swallowing hard, "He rode out followed by at least a dozen men, you can not go after him alone, it would be _suicidio_," the older man reached out to the younger man.

Johnny stepped back, not wishing any contact, "I will wait. I will bury my mother and Carlos first then there will not be a rock this _culebra _can hide under that I will not find him."

Turning Johnny did not give the body of his mother a final glance, "I will be outside. Come for me when all's ready."

In the blooming light of day Johnny felt the blood drying on his shirtfront, he put a hand to touch the still dampness of his mother's blood.

Turning his face to the wakening sun the young man shook his head. Was he prepared to go down that path? The rage building in his soul demanded it; the dread of what that life meant saddened his heart.

The senseless death of his mother he promised to avenge, his life he would put into the hands of fate.

In a long drawn out sigh, he had another duty one that may have to wait agin... a promise to keep, and he kept his promises... always.

_**MADRID**_

A little saloon in a little town of no consequence, and a full bottle of tequila was the best the young man could expect. At least it was on the Norte Americano side of the Mexican border.

The ruales had been snooping much too close, so it was best he kept to this side of the Rio Grande until it blew over.

He chuckled to himself as he remembered the look on El Capitan's face as the guard tower blew apart and the prisoners escaped into the hills.

The peon revolt was his second mistake of some note; he knew it was not in his best interest to become involved in political brawls. Then the pay... he laughed aloud, _what pay_.

Well the tamales and beans were the best he had ever eaten and he had never found his bed empty and cold, the tequila passable.

It had made him feel good about the use of his gun the looks on the ruales faces were priceless. Taking a sip from his glass he smiled, life at this point and time was good. She smiled at him from across the room he pushed out a chair with a foot, yeah real good, he had just turned seventeen... _happy birthday._

_**CLOSER STILL**_

He rode out in the early morning hours, shop keepers had not even swept off the boardwalk in front of their store.

Leaving Luella still asleep in the bed they had shared, a twenty-dollar double gold eagle on the pillow beside her, and an extra eagle to share with the barkeeper. He felt sorry for her, widowed for less than a year and two babies to feed... it was only money. He had a stack of gold coins in a bank this side of the Rio he bought what he needed and banked the rest, it was blood money it brought no joy.

What he really wanted he could see no way around, someone like him would never attain it.

He used to dream of a big house, enough work to keep you out of trouble and a family to care for you and watch your back.

His one greatest wish was for a brother... older if he had a choice.

Momma had lost a child before it was born; he was around two at the time so he figured it had been Murdoch Lancers. On the other hand it could have been the man she run off with, no matter it would have been his brother or sister... he would have been an older brother, he would have liked that.

Guess that was just another dream that fate took away from him. The way he was going... probably would not live to see twenty... at seventeen, the future looked bleak for a young gunfighter.

Johnny Madrid had a reputation someone as young rarely achieved. Unlike most young men his age, Johnny had never bragged of his gift with a gun.

He did not know if it was a gift from God or the Devil. Nevertheless, it helped him survive this long, he was by no means _looking _for a bullet... but _it_ was out there waiting for him.

Fate, a bad day or just bad luck_... it _was out there.

He did not fear death for death was resolute and he accepted that when it came you just acknowledged it and gave into the _dance_. It went hand in hand with the thrill of cheating death for one more day.

Birth, life then death, but death would have to wait a little longer for Johnny Madrid, he had a promise to keep and he would see it through.

Pulling Regalo, his horse, to a stop Johnny read the posted sign... "Morro Coyo 10 miles, well fella looks ta be you get a nice clean stall with oats and cool water, how's that sound to ya?"

The horse nodded his head and Johnny laughed.

_**FORWARD TO THE END**_

The town of Morro Coyo looked much like any other diverse Mexican and Anglo town. He knew from living in Mexico that these little towns grew up around the major estancias... Lancer must be _big._

Smiling he guessed he would fit right in half-and-half, a mestizo... a Mexican of Spanish heritage with the blue eyes of the gringo.

At times, he hated his blue eyes they were a reminder that he was _different,_ loathed, unaccepted... mestizo.

His eyes were the deep, icy blue of a high mountain lake, vividly staring out from sun kissed skin, complements of his Gringo father, Lancer.

Suppressing a chuckle, well the way the 'women' talked about his blue eyes guess they did give him an advantage. Least when he was laying in bed staring up at 'em.

Coming back from the visions of white creamy or dusky dark skin, he surveyed his surroundings.

Morro Coyo was nice and quiet; as he liked it, he had not seen a sheriff eyeing him and that was always a good thing.

No law... that was just fine with him. Didn't need no law dog sniffin' 'round, he only wanted to get in keep his promise and get out... no one would know Johnny Madrid had ever been here.

Simple, direct that is how he was... just get it done no need to stand around palaverin' over tha past.

He was here for only one reason... to pay back Murdoch Lancer, but in the back of his mind his little voice called to him, _'there could be so much more.'_

Shaking his head, no cannot ever be, not for him. Stopping in front of the livery he smoothly dismounted though every part of his body ached.

Dios, he sighed out, he was gettin' too old for all this.

Five days in the saddle and just as many nights sleepin' on a bedroll had his body screaming for a bath and a soft bed.

It was then his stomach joined in with a rumble of its own and he put a hand to his belly as if to quell the beast_._

An Mexican man bent with age appeared in front of him, hearing the protests of an empty belly he smile up at the young man, "I will see to your horse senor, the cantina, Rosie's is just over there. Her tamales will tame that savage beast in your belly."

Johnny handed the reins over into the gnarled work hardened hands, "You do right by him old man."

Standing almost upright, "Senor, I Rodrigo de la Cruz have taken care of many horses for many more years than you have lived. My stable is clean my animals well cared for," as brown eyes filled with fire he stared into the icy blue of the young man, "you will not disrespect me in my own place."

Johnny taken unawares, blue eyes flashing then with a laugh, lips turning up in a sincere smile, "Senor Cruz perdones, I am so weary from my days in the saddle I was thinking with my butt instead of my head. Por favor, extra grain for mi amigo, I will check on him later."

Johnny tilted his head and gave the old man a grin.

The old man smiled back thinking his daughter Rosa of the cantina Rosie's would be serving this Chico extra tamales and beans... at no extra charge.

As well as locking her daughter, his granddaughter Magdalena in the back room away from such a likeable scoundrel as this.

Nodding once Rodrigo motioned with his free hand, "Go chico calm that beast before it claws it's way from your belly."

With a cheeky grin, Johnny turned and walked across to the cantina silver spurs ringing a happy tune at each step the young man took.

Rodrigo shook his head the walk like a rooster, head high as if he had no one to fear, ready for a fight if one presented itself... confident that he would be on top after the struggle.

Yet there was a genuine goodness to the boy, buried deep inside hidden by the outward hardness of the youthful exterior he had seen it in the eyes. How many men made the mistake of thinking this _man_ a mere boy, and how many now lay under less than six feet of dirt?

He knew the young man was Johnny Madrid, he had seen him two years ago... a child taking on and defeating Juan Perez and two of his pistoleros.

It was as if fate played the music of the dance and the young Johnny Madrid danced honorably and without fear.

Three men lay dead in the dirt of the street in the border town, the _boy_ then walked away unharmed, mounted his caballo and rode away.

Patting the neck of the large sorrel... in fact, the boy rode away on this horse.

"Come mi amigo you have done good to bring him here, now you may rest," leading the animal into the cool of the livery he thought maybe the boy will find a home before the only home he had was a six by three hole in the ground, if someone cared enough.

_**AWKWARD MOMENTS**_

Rosalina Maria Victoria de la Cruz Delgado turned glaring chocolate eyes at the young pistolero, who smiled back and nodded, blue eyes dancing.

The mother in her felt just a little better that he _understood_ the unwritten law that 'good' girls were off limits to him and his kind, a pistolero.

The woman in her envied her daughter the freedom to flirt with the handsome young man, if she were not married... ah well.

"Lena, come you have other customers to attend," the girl turned to her mother reluctantly leaving the blue eyed pistolero with only tamale and beans. She never even got the chance to ask him to visit her later tonight.

Stabbing a glare to her mother in passing she would _never_ get out of this little town and her clinging parents, there was more _out there_. Her blue-eyed pistolero may be her ticket to freedom if only...

Johnny smiled and raised his glass of tequila to the woman standing glaring at him, arms crossed over an ample bosom a momma bear protecting her cub.

Johnny had gotten the message from the mother as brown eyes glared. He was under no impression that he would get a chance at the innocent young woman.

The chica _was _a woman in everyway but experience. No he did not cross that line, he held all women in high regard no matter their station in life, well most.

Even though _they_ were willing to part with a secret that should be in trust for a husband, Johnny was not going to be tempted to take it.

There were too many _soiled doves _to take care of _that _specific need.

Johnny left a sizable tip, a broken heart and a grateful mother when he left the cantina and made his way to the livery.

After checking the livery and his faithful animal and a light verbal sparring with Rodrigo, Johnny hefted his saddlebag and rifle over his shoulder.

Upon entering the small hotel, which boasted of five clean rooms, Johnny put a deposit down for three days and nights.

Inquiring about a barbershop with a hot bath, "Yes sir, just up the street, on your left across from Baldamaros Emporium, Mack 'ill give a close one."

The bath was hot, the barber talkative, after arranging for his dirty clothes to be laundered Johnny emerged clean cheeked, hair trimmed and clothed in clean duds.

Glancing up the road, he saw a heavy wagon pulled by two horses lumber up to the _Emporium,_ looking at the sign he smiled, real bigheaded for a small store.

A blond haired cowboy lightly leapt from the seat, booted feet stirring up a puff of dust as he landed. Going to the head of the team, he tied off the lead horse going to the other side, he held up a hand to aid a young dark haired woman from the wagon.

Swinging her down to plant her feet on the boardwalk of the emporium, they spoke to each other for a moment then the cowboy escorted the woman into the store.

One of Johnny's pastimes was to figure out people, who and what they did. It was an innocent game he liked to play, kept his mind sharp.

Johnnys booted feet stepped on the boardwalk in front of the _Emporium_, he lowered his hat and head just as the blond gringo was coming out.

Johnny bumped by _accident _into the gringo who stepped back to look at the young man, "Pardon me."

Tilting his head just a little, Johnny looked into the grey blue eyes of the tall blonde-haired cowboy, "Yeah guess ya need ta be more careful there. Some one else may not be so forgivin'"

Scott Lancer noticed the low slung gun and the impassive face of the young pistolero... he did not need this to escalate into a gunfight, "You are right, totally my fault. I'm Scott Lancer; may I offer you a drink to make up for my clumsiness?"

Johnnys smile faltered then gave this gringo his best Madrid face; he knew his eyes were like crystal glass, his stare promising death glad his racing heart could not be seen by his _brother._

The man did not back down, he was wary but not afraid... Johnny had to grin when this man spoke, all proper and fancy-like a green horn but..., "Well friend seems ta be your lucky day I find myself in a good mood," glancing into the store, he noticed the young woman, '_who was she, wife maybe?'_

With a smile, Johnny's face lit up like a ray of sun breaking from behind a storm cloud, "Tell ya what, I gotta buy a few things then I'll meet ya over ta tha saloon."

Scott nodded, "I have a few errands myself, say meet you there in half an hour?"

Johnny chuckled, eyes still on the young woman then glanced back to lock on the gringo, "Yeah that should be just enough time... see ya."

Scott stood aside as the young man entered Baldamaros; he was not sure if he should go back inside the store and keep an eye on the _boy. _

Teresa was in there and Scott wanted to supervise the situation but would that be enough of an issue to start a fight he did not want, no he had to trust his instinct.

The young man did not appear to be mean-hearted, besides the proprietors, Senor and Senora Baldamaro would keep an eye on the young man and Teresa.

The older couple had known Teresa O'Brien since she was born, and they were friends to his father Murdoch Lancer... no she would be safe.

Scott hurried none the less to get his errands run and then a quick drink with... he hadn't even gotten the young man's name, but he sure dressed flashy.

No matter, a friendly drink then Scott would load up his supplies and Teresa and return to Lancer... the young man was probably just passing through.

Scott's steps were just a tad faster, no reason to tempt fate; he was very adept at finding his own trouble.

Thank you very much.

_**NOT AS EXPECTED**_

Johnny moved around the store fingering this touching that, but keeping his eyes on the young dark-haired woman.

He grinned at the shopkeeper, the man would fold completely the woman was looking protectively at the young woman... a momma bear and her cub.

He had had his share of a mother with hot Latin blood... just the same he gave her his most charming smile and he saw her facade waver just a little.

Picking up a piece of ribbon just as the young woman also reached for it, their hands came in contact, "Oh.." she pulled back, flustered and red faced, "I'm sorry."

As she was turning away, Johnny held the ribbon to her dark hair, "Oh don't be sorry this would look much better on you than on me."

She had a shy innocent smile, her brown eyes looked up into his blue ones from under long lashes, " Oh I don't know about that," she looked at his face tilted her head left then right, eyes lit with mischief, "With all that long hair it may just be what you need."

Johnny gave her a big grin, "Why ma'am if I knew you wern't a lady... I'd say you were teasin' with me."

Lowering her head Teresa bit back a laugh, silent thoughts rolling around her head, 'Scott would take a big brother attitude and Murdoch would restrict me to the estancia for a year for my audacity'.

Johnny lay the ribbon back on the table folded his arms across his chest and studied the woman, "You do know it's not safe to be leading a man on ifn' ya don't even know his name."

He released his right hand and held it out to the young woman, "Name's Johnny, Johnny Madrid."

Teresa bit her bottom lip, looked at the offered hand then looked up into the face of a notorious gunfighter, she had heard of _Johnny Madrid._

She was both excited and frightened; pulling her shoulders back, she smiled and held her right hand out, as Johnny took it in his grasp, "I'm Teresa."

Johnny was aware the shopkeepers had kept eyes on them or him to be exact, "So Miss Teresa was that your husband that left as I came in?"

The girl smiled with fondness lighting her eyes, "No Scott's my brother."

Johnny released her hand from his, quickly shuttering his emotions, Dios... a sister and a brother.

Another fact his momma had kept from him... but maybe not.

This girl was younger than him and the tall blond well ... no he was definitely older he could tell by how the man had the look of some life changing events in his blue eyes a maturity in his bearing.

Turning a smile that could charm the birds from the sky, Johnny touched the tips of two slender fingers to his hat brim, "I've taken up too much of your time as it is Miss Teresa. I've gotta go, so you have a good day. Don't go talkin' ta strange men it ain't safe."

As he made his way to the front of the store, he laughingly called back over one shoulder, "Tha blue ribbon would look real nice in your pretty hair."

Teresa followed with her eyes the retreating figure of Johnny Madrid, her heart was still pounding but not out of fear, it was more an awaking of something inside her. Her cheeks pinked as she watched the way he walked away, the tight leather of his pants molded to his lean hips and...

Putting a hand to her cheek, 'Lord have mercy girl, he's just a man _and_ a stranger _and _a dangerous gunfighter. Murdoch will surely give her a lecture on appropriate behavior.'

_**INTO THE UNKNOWN**_

Johnny Madrid stood just outside the batwing doors pausing for a moment for his vision to adjust to the lower light of the saloon.

Blue eyes falling on the tall blond sitting at a table near the back of the room, two mugs of beer in front of him on the tabletop... he had to smile.

'_Brother,' _the word released from his lips as a whisper. He had a brother... a _big _brother, now that was a kick in tha head to be sure.

Ten years ago, Murdoch Lancer never mentioned a brother... hell he couldn't blame the man it was his own fault for takin' off like some wet behind the ears _kid,_ hell, he reckoned, he had still been a kid.

Pushing the rest of the way into the saloon, he made his way to the table.

Scott looked up as the swinging doors opened, a frown turning down his lips. Bill the bartender had told him that this energetic, somewhat charming young man was Johnny Madrid, gunslinger and gun for hire and he had left Teresa alone in the store with this known killer, if he so much as said a word out of line, Madrid wouldn't find a rock big enough...

His frown turned up into a pleasant smile, greeting the young man, "Just in time, just got here myself. Bill assures me these mugs of beer have been chilled all night, hope you have built up a thirst," Lord he was rambling now.

Johnny hooked a chair with his foot opposite his '_brother_', and pulled it out. Plopping his lean butt into the chair and grinning at the older man as he hefted the beer to his lips, "Yeah worked up a good thirst, talkin' ta pretty girls always gave me a _need _for somethin' cool... ifn' ya know what I mean?"

Scott did catch the innuendo from the gunfighter and frowned.

He leaned forward and tapped the tabletop with a long finger, "Teresa is my sister, if I find out you were anything less than a gentleman... reputation or no... I will teach you some manners."

Johnny sipped his beer with a nonchalance that would bait a saint, so the man would react when it came to family... good to know.

Sitting the mug of beer back to the tabletop Johnny folded his hands across his stomach and leaned his chair back on the two rear legs... rocking back and forth, "Now Mister Lancer I hold in the highest regard all women, " he continued rocking.

Dark blue eyes locked with light blue eyes, "Miss Teresa was as safe with me as she would be with a choir boy."

Scott sat back, a knowing grin on his lips... the boy was baiting him, "That's good to know Mr. Madrid, but I know all about _choir boys_."

Reaching for his beer mug Johnny had to say it, "Yeah I bet ya do."

Johnny was good, _very_ good at reading people, but for some reason this man... his brother was harder.

A strong slim hand shot out and grasp his own before the gunfighter could grab up his mug, "Listen _boy _you have a smart mouth, one that could get you into trouble. I will protect my family no matter the reputation or legend you may have," releasing his hold Scott sat back and picked up his own mug, "Is that _understood_?"

Johnny could feel his face flush with anger, no one touched him... no one. He had had enough abuse growing up and he did not tolerate it now.

Watching the tall blond lean back and pick up his beer Johnny relaxed, he liked this man.

Smiling and picking up his own mug, "Don't get all prickly on me friend... don't mean no offense," with a shrug, "My mouth does tend ta run ahead of my brain sometime," 'Dios now he was apologizing to a stranger... what was wrong with him?'

Scott nodded; as he sipped his beer, he scrutinized the gunfighter before him. This could not be the _killer _of legend... as he had looked into the deep blue eyes; Scott had seen a vulnerable kid and something else...

As they sipped their beers, the two men relaxed and took each other's measure.

Each man found someone unpredictable and something confusing... neither one could place a finger on the feeling, it was just there.

_**WHAT NOW**_

Johnny's eyes followed the tall blond man as he left the saloon, 'Dios what now'.

He had a brother a _big _brother, and a _sister, _one of the things he had wanted his whole life. All within his reach, but he was afraid, chuckling to himself, Johnny Madrid afraid of a Fancy Dan cowboy and a pretty girl, yeah right. Was Lancer married still to the girls mother, Dios what a fix he found himself.

Just what was happening to him... he felt baffled and hopeful... this was happening too fast, muddling his thoughts?

Confusion could get him killed; damn he had hoped to get a couple days rest before confronting Murdoch Lancer.

No the sooner the better, pay the man back then light out and leave all these conflicting thoughts behind him. Standing up he nodded to the nervous barkeep, at times, he was weary of people's reactions to him.

Settling his gun to a comfortable position Madrid walked out into the sunshine a determined man.

_**AH HEL... HECK**_

What confronted Johnny as he stepped out into the street was not what he had expected.

Scott Lancer standing twenty feet in front of, 'mierda', **Bodine, **'_brother_ _what did you do to get yourself into such a pickle'?_

Well even if he did not really know Scott he was not about to let Bodine kill the man. Johnny would not permit his brother to be hurt. Besides, he did not like Bodine the man was a disease on the name of professional gunfighters.

Tilting his hat lower over his eyes Johnny stepped out into the street, **"BODINE!"**

James Alexander Bodine took a quick glance away from his intended target, smiled then cold eyes settled once more on the cowboy, "Madrid, thought ya was south o' tha border. I'll take care o' you too once I teach this cowpoke a lesson in manners."

Johnny sauntered into the street, his earlier glance he had noticed the girl rubbing her arm with a small hand, tears in her doe brown eyes, Mrs. Baldamaro beside her, a protective arm around the girl... momma bear for sure.

Johnny smiled, he was right... a natural mother bear. He had to admit Scott Lancer did not back down and he was not runnin' even though he had to know the only outcome with Bodine was death.

To someone with Madrid's skills, Bodine did not come close, "Bodine ya pickin' on little girls and cowhands now. Thought ya were top gun 'round here, all I see is a belly crawlin' snake."

Bodines neck turned red, "Your mouth always was too clever _boy _would'a thought someone had shut it for ya long ago."

Johnny turned ice blue eyes on the gunfighter, "Well tell ya how it is Bodine, many have tried, but they ain't around no more to tell ya how that worked out."

Bodine wanted desperately to wipe a trickle of sweat from his brow, but he knew any move on his part and he would not need to worry 'bout that little nuisance.

He would swallow but the spit in his mouth had dried up, trying to find any moisture, he smiled back at the impetuous boy, "I don't need any help to take you down boy. Tell ya what _boy, _I'll let the cowboy live if you take his place, 'course me 'n tha little filly got some hard ridin' ta do."

Scott moved just an inch at the dirty retort but was stopped short by the cold drawl of Madrid, "Stand down Lancer, you go help your sister," seeing Scott hesitate, "Hey this is what I do... go on see ta T'resa."

Scott turned away from the two gunfighters, he had not been scared of standing up to Bodine, he was however scared that Teresa would have seen his death.

Rushing to her side Scott gathered her up into an embrace, then handed her off to Mrs. Baldamaro, "Take her inside she doesn't need to see, this."

When the two women had disappeared into the store Scott turned back at the drama unfolding in the street.

Madrid was not like any gunfighter he had ever heard about. Where as Bodines' eyes were empty of anything but hate and anger, Madrid's eyes were cold but had a spark of life behind them.

The boy was an enigma and Scott hoped he would get the chance to learn more about the young gunfighter, he had always liked a good mystery.

What had set the boy on a path of killing with no future, his thoughts turned once more to the two men facing each other... about to face death?

Johnny knew the girl was out of the way and Scott was at a safe distance, "I really don't much like bullies and murderers and you Bodine are both."

Bodine chuckled; "you ain't no different than me Madrid."

Johnny smiled, "Yeah but I still got time on my side you however done seen his last sunrise."

Scott felt a hand on his sleeve; it was Cipriano the Lancer segundo. Both men stood silent, as the dance was nearly complete.

Scott could see now why gunfighters called this a _dance_, two men literally danced with Death as the partner, who Death was taking home was any ones guess.

Scott, jarred out of his thoughts by two explosions, looked up to see smoke and smell cordite. Bodine was slowly collapsing to the dirt street, gun falling from numb fingers, eyes glazing over as Death took its partner home.

Madrid was standing, as Scott moved towards the gunfighter he saw a movement behind the boy, "Look out," he shouted then saw Johnny turn and fire.

Scott had watched as Johnny stepped to the side shielding him from what was to come, turned and fired.

The sound of two gunshots filled the silence as Scott leaped forward. Johnny fell to his knees holding his side... grabbing him as he tilted to the right Scott kept the boy from falling hard into the dirt.

"Johnny," Scott's arms wrapped around the lean body, gently holding the gunfighter, "Is it bad?"

Johnny looked up into the face of a concerned '_brother'_ if only he could say it, if only for just one time but it was too late, "Bad enough."

Cipriano knelt beside the two men, his patrons elder son and the young gunfighter Johnny Madrid, "the other one is dead senor Scott, how is senor Madrid?"

Shaking his head, "Not good Cip, help me get Johnny to the doctor's office, "God why did he do it?"

The answer would have to wait; Madrid was losing blood much too fast. Cipriano motioned for Scott to move back, the segundo picked Madrid up as he would one of his children ... Scott grasp the gun, which Johnny still had a solid grip on.

Blue eyes stared into blue eyes; with a slight nod, Johnny relinquished his hold on the gun.

Teresa joined the procession moving quickly down the street... she had seen many accidents on the Lancer estancia, but never like this. To _want_ to hurt or kill someone just made no sense to her.

When her daddy died last year, it was Murdoch and Scott that helped her through the anguish and pain... just a senseless accident, but this... she had learned in her short years, life was too precious to throw away.

Scott had the door opened at the doctor's office and Cipriano carried the young man through the door and the waiting room into the surgery.

Laying the unconscious young man on the high table, he stared into the face of Madrid. He had heard many stories of the young pistolero from his familia in Mexico... what a waste... much too young, but he had saved the life of Scott Lancer... why?

_**TRUTH WILL TELL**_

Scott looked around the doctor's office, no friendly face greeted him with a familiar smile, and Scott was beginning to get scared... where was Sam Jenkins?

Cipriano saw the fear in the face of the patron's son... not fear for himself but fear for the gunfighter's life.

Ciprianos voice cut into Scott's feeling of dread, "Scott we must stop this bleeding, come you must help me until el medico can come."

Scott turned a worried face to the big segundo and the lifeless body of the man who had saved his life, "Where is he, God I hope he's not in Green River today."

He made sure Teresa was ensconced in the waiting room... she didn't need to see this, she had lost her father less than a year ago... she didn't need to see this young man die.

Closing the door to the surgery Scott stepped towards the bed, and watched as Cip began undoing the belt buckles of the well-worn holster. "Senor Scott I heard what was happening in the street and sent Pablo to find the doctor... but we must help, we must stop the bleeding or Madrid will not have even a small chance to live," getting no response, "Scott!"

Scott nodded and swallowed his fear; he had seen too many gunshots and too many young men die on the battlefield. He thought he was doing the right thing to fight in the war of secession... after the first six months all he felt like he was doing was watching young men like Madrid die a pointless, cruel death.

The soldier in him sprang forth to take over his mind and actions, noticing Cip had gotten the holster off the leather belt holding the pants were next. He saw where the blood was seeping out just above where the belt sat low on Madrid's hips.

Grabbing some clean bandages, "When we take that belt off the bleeding may start in earnest, as soon as you release the buckle I'll press this to the wound."

Cipriano nodded, "Si... if you are ready?"

Scott nodded, it was a precision move, the belt released and white bandages pressed into the wound, and he frowned as the white turned red too fast.

There was a moan from Madrid as Scott pressed hard it wasn't long before the bandages were soaked through... staring at the blood darkening his hands Scott despaired, "Where is Sam Jenkins?"

Johnny clawed his way up from the oblivion hungrily pulling at him... 'Not yet, not yet... promise to keep' he moaned as someone pressed his side, 'Dios stop... just stop, promise must keep the promise'.

He opened tear filled eyes and saw a stranger, a big Mexican staring at him, then he heard Lancer's voice, his '_brothers_' voice, "Where is Sam Jenkins," he didn't care who this Jenkins was, he had to speak.

"Scott," his own voice sounded strange as the name came from between teeth gritted in pain. It was hard to concentrate on the words let alone try and actually speak, "Scott... boot... bank draft... Murdoch Lancer, tell him... ten years ago Mexico... a pinto and new clothes... tell him... por favor."

Johnny had found the strength to grab Scott's shirtfront, when he saw a nod from the blond man he released his grip and as his hand fell back to the table his release on reality fled with it.

Scott looked at Cipriano as the man had gasped a deep breath, "What Cip... what did he mean?"

Scott stared at the segundo as he stood straighter and did the sign of the cross over his head and shoulders, "Madre de Dios, Juanito."

"Cipriano, what did he mean a promise to Murdoch," Scott keeping pressure on the still bleeding wound, though the flow had dwindled, was that a good sign or a bad one, "Cip what did he mean?"

Cipriano stood staring into the face-gone paler from the lack of blood, the face of John Lancer... the face of senor Scott's brother.

Looking into the questioning eye of the patrons elder son, "Ten years ago your poppa and I found your hermano, the patron bought Juanito a pinto pony."

Cipriano stopped his narration and looked deep into Scott's eyes, "this Madrid is su hermano John Lancer."

Scott was not sure why he was not surprised, it was as if something deep in his soul knew why he liked this young man... this _gunfighter_. He wondered if his father had known what became of his little boy, the way Cipriano had reacted and knowing the segundo and his father were very close friends, he thought not. What now, unless they got some help it would be a moot point. He was not going to lose a brother when he just found him, **"Where's Jenkins?"**

_**HEALING HANDS**_

"He is right here," Sam had pushed open the door to his surgery as the loud voice of Scott Lancer boomed through out the small office.

He had been having a wonderful lunch with Mrs. Pearlman. The old dear was nearing eighty-five years old so Sam, when he had the free time, took to having lunch with her when he was in Morro Coyo. She had no children and he sensed it gave her a little companionship when he allowed her to fix him lunch and dote on him.

As Sam Jenkins moved into his surgery, he saw the bloody tossed bandages on the floor, Scott Lancer pressing hard on the man on the table, "Alright Scott let me take a look."

Sam moved around to stand beside the younger man; he looked up into the Lancer Segundo's face and saw... fear, relief, and concern. Whom was this young man bleeding to death on his table, "Scott what have we here?"

Scott released a relieved, "thank God, Sam he's been shot just above his belt on the hip... as far as I can tell the bullet is still in there, but I can't get the bleeding to stop."

Taking a deep breath, "it has slowed some but that could also mean he's lost too much." Looking into the brown eyes of the doctor whom he trusted since he met him ten years ago, "He saved my life Sam; I can't let him go until I find out... and he's..."

Cipriano had been deep in thought should he tell the patrons son that no matter what he did as a living Juanito was still his brother... would Scott accept a killer as a brother, would the patron?

"Senor Scott he did what any brother would do, to give up his life for his hermano," Cip watched for a reaction from the younger man.

He was surprised when Scott lifted his head and smiled, "I think I knew... deep down I knew he was important to me, I just never realized how much."

Sam moved beside Scott, his strong hands placed over those of the young man he had grown to think of a son he had never had, "Scott let me, go wash up. Cipriano please go and ask Mrs. Martin next door to come help me." When no one moved he looked up and followed where both sets of eyes stared.

What he saw was a young man on the verge of bleeding to death if someone did not move. The face looked familiar as he stared the eyes opened.

As he watched the long lashes fluttered as the boy fought his way from the darkness that held him, he sucked in a breath as the blue of the eyes found his, he knew those eyes, "My God, John," was this John the lost boy of Murdoch Lancer.

"Gentlemen, we have no time for wool gathering I need help now!" Sam was not a man to shout and rant but enough was enough... **"GO!"**

The two other men in the room began to move to the door, Cipriano turned the knob and held the door open for Scott who stopped and looked back.

Scott glanced once more at his brother, then with pleading eyes he turned to the doctor, "Sam he has to live... I don't want to lose him when I just found him."

Sam smiled, "I'll do everything humanly possible after that it's up to Johnny and the good Lord. Go on son let your father know his lost boy has returned."

Scott nodded, turned and left the room followed by Cipriano. Sam Jenkins looked under the bandage; the flow of Johnny's lifeblood had dwindled. His hands covered in the blood of his friend's son began to shake.

His hand made a fist and Sam closed his eyes, "Ok Samuel Jenkins, buck up and do your best."

"You tryin' ta convince me or yourself, doc," Johnnys voice croaked as he gave the doctor a grin. Blue eyes sparkling with laughter, "Doc, just get it done... I ain't goin' anywhere... Got too much yet ta do, not ready ta dance with tha devil."

Sam smiled down at Johnny, "You young man, are a marvel to the medical world. You have been shot..."

"Yeah nothing new there," Johnny quipped.

"You have lost a good amount of blood...," the doctor continued.

"Yeah, figured as much," Johnny groaned at a stab of pain lanced through his body.

Sam put a hand on Johnny's forehead and leaned closer, "But you are a Lancer and that is another word for _stubborn. _You put your mind to getting better, I have a feeling your path has just been altered and fate is a fickle female, so let us get on with this."

Johnny nodded, eyes closing he heard the swish of skirts and petticoats, he could always tell when a woman was around, with a low voice he smiled, "too many clothes..." Johnny thought that women wore too many layers and much too many frills.

Sam did not catch the last of what his patient said, but the smile told him the boy was not feeling pain.

Glancing up as Mrs. Martin came in, "Ah Maggie, thank you. I'm going to need your extra hands," glancing once more to the pale face of the boy, "we have a special young man who we need to make well."

The woman, platinum blond hair in a bun, sensible but expensive clothing smiled up into the doctors eyes, "Then Samuel I suggest we get to it, the specter of death always hangs around the surgery," with a grin, "Let's say we give him the boot."

Sam nodded, "I'll clean up you get everything prepared... we have our job cut out for us."

As they set about preparing for surgery on the young man on the table, Mrs. Martin took a second and brushed a wayward lock of raven black hair from the face of the young man. He reminded her of William and was about the same age when her son had died. Well this boy would not die she would not give death another soul, "You listen to me young man some one out there loves you and needs you. You fight boy you fight with everything you have."

Johnny rolled his head not sure if he heard the voice or it was in his head but he had to answer, "Yes ma'am," he slipped into the darkness as he felt a soft hand on his cheek, "Momma?"

Maggie patted the boy's cheek and smiled at the one word, "you sleep now son, when you wake everything will alright." Johnny slipped away and Maggie looked over at Sam, "ready Samuel?"

Hands clean, strong with no jitters, Sam nodded, "Yes Maggie, let's get this boy on the road to health, and an anxious family."

_**A NEW PATH**_

Johnny was not sure what woke him up; it could have been the pain at his side when he had shifted in bed or the rumbling of some _thing _close to his bed.

Slowly opening his eyes, relieved to see it was not the grizzly bear he had at first suspected but an older man, graying at the temples, long arms wrapped around a broad chest.

The rumblings were little pauses in the regular breaths the man took as he slept. Johnny could not see how long the man's legs were but they had to be pretty long just from the way he was reclining in the chair.

Grimacing from his own pain, he knew the man would regret sitting there and sleeping in that straight-backed chair. As he studied the man, realization hit him over the head... Murdoch Lancer, his _father_, dios what was he going to say to the man.

Murdoch shifted painfully in the chair, he was going to regret not taking Sam's offer of the over stuffed chair earlier.

Unfolding his arms he bent his knees and pushed himself higher in the chair, a low moan came from lips held between clinched teeth, "That's gotta hurt Ol' Man."

At the croaking remark Murdoch turned his eyes to the bed, "And you _young_ man have a smart mouth," a smile brightened the face of a very relieved father, "how are you feeling son?"

Johnny, lying on his back, turned his head away from his father, "I'm fine, thanks for askin'."

Leaning closer in, "Would you like a sip of water, your throat sounds dry."

Johnny nodded, "Si, feel like I got half tha desert in my mouth." As he tried to sit up higher on the bed he felt the stitches pull and a new series of pains wracked his body, "Dios... been shot before but never had this much pain. What'd that saw bones do to me?"

Murdoch smiled at the new moniker his younger son had bestowed on Sam, "that _sawbones_ delivered you seventeen years ago." Standing Murdoch filled the glass with fresh cool water, "just relax let me hold you up a bit and get some of this water in you."

Johnny felt like a baby as his father placed one strong arm and hand under his shoulders while the other hand held the glass to his parched lips.

The water was cool, and felt good going down his throat, turning his head away, "thanks that's enough, don't want a return visit."

Murdoch lowered his boy back to the bed with one hand he straightened the sheet over Johnny's chest, noticing a pink puckering on his sons' shoulder, "That looks like it might have been serious son, what happened?"

Johnny shrugged a shoulder, "happens in my line a work. Least _I _walked away."

Murdoch replaced the glass on the nightstand and returned to his seat, "John I want you to know I looked for you after you... well, I wanted you to come home with me. But all that is past, you're here now..."

Johnny interrupted his father, "You still _want me_, I'm a horse thief you could hang me..."

Murdoch's eyes locked onto his son's, "Johnny _no_ I _gave _you that horse". Leaning in, "Son if you felt you needed your mother maybe we could have worked something out, I could have..."

"No," Johnny turned sad eyes to his father, "nothing you could have said or done would have kept my mother from going her own way."

Both heads turned to the light knock and watched as the door opened slowly. A blond head followed by a lean tall body came through the opening, "Ah he's awake."

Approaching the bed Scott noticed the joy in his father's face and the cautious wariness of his brothers, "Sam has breakfast ready, he said for you," pointedly looking at Murdoch to '_get in here and eat, do not take 'no' for an answer. Or there would be dire consequences.'_

Murdoch looked from son to son, he did not want to leave, even for a second but he knew Scott wanted some time alone with his brother.

Hands on hips the big rancher sighed, "I guess I had better go. Scott your brother has had a little water, try and get him to take more."

Bending closer to his son in the bed, "Johnny, Sam and I will be just down the hall if you need anything we'll be right here."

Johnny's lips quirked up and he just nodded, blue eyes followed the retreating form of his father when the man passed through the doorway and the door closed to just half way, "Dios if I had known what a mother hen tha old man was I'da let you get shot," laughing blue eyes looked up into grey blue eyes.

Scott, arms folded over his chest, a smile starting to turn his lips up, "well _brother _I am sorry you took a bullet aimed right at me, but I am glad it is _not_ me our father is fussing over."

Walking closer to the bed Scott picked up the water glass, turning to his brother, "Sam will have more dire consequences aimed at _you_ if you don't drink more fluids."

Johnny nodded as his brother helped him drink the cool liquid. Not admitting the water was threatening a return from his stomach, he just turned his head, "huh, _big _brother, imagine that," he quipped.

Scott lowered Johnny back to the bed and replaced the water glass on the side table, "yes, the key word being _big,_ the elder brother and keeper of his brash, recalcitrant _younger_ brother."

Johnny eyed the older man, 'dios, a brother, who would have thought, momma had never told him he had a brother'.

Maybe he was wrong in not coming home with his father long ago... but he had promised to take care of his mother. He had failed miserably, so why would these people want him now. A _failure _a _killer_ not cut out to live in _polite_ society; he would full fill his promise to Lancer then leave.

Scott watched the emotions roll across the face of his brother. What was conflicting the boy to make his eyes turn sad and his lips to turn down in a forlorn frown, "Johnny something the matter?"

Johnny looked at his big brother and sighed, how he could tell someone that they had been a constant dream his whole life, a wish finally fulfilled and how could he tell them goodbye.

He shifted in bed and grunted as the pain caught him unawares, 'gotta stop doing that he complained to himself', "just tired Scott think I'm gonna go back ta sleep, you be sure to tell that old sawbones I tried."

Scott looked intently at the slack face, while awake his little brother was a force to be reckoned with however when asleep his emotions were unguarded and the little lost boy revealed.

"You sleep brother," Scott said as he pulled the sheet higher under his little brother's chin, "get all the rest you can because you and I are going to have a very long talk as to the ranking of siblings."

Bending down low to whisper in his brother's ear, "and just so you know _little_ brother I will always be the _bigger _brother, so just get that straight."

Johnny had to smile, it felt good to hear his big brother lay down the rules so long as they weren't orders, ' don't follow orders too good,' he didn't think he had said that out loud but he did hear an ungentlemanly snicker from somewhere close to his ear.

Scott stood arms folded over his chest and watched his brother sleep, long lost years... it was to Scott a tragedy. A Shakespearean sonnet could not have been more tragic.

With a confident resolve Scott Garrett Lancer sat in the hard chair, watched, and waited...

_**COMING HOME**_

Murdoch clucked to the matched pair of horses in the traces, as he flicked the reins over their backs he glanced at his younger son.

The boy was pouting; of course, if he had said that word to his petulant son he would have seen the wrong end of the six-gun the boy was holding in his lap, the wound too tender to wear the rig.

Doctor 'sawbones' Jenkins, in no uncertain terms told them, "Johnny will ride in that carriage or he would stay right there in his 'hospital' period."

Johnny had stared right back at the doctor, "is that an order," the younger man growled out.

Sam, not in the least bit terrified of Johnny Madrid, stared right back chin stuck out hands on hips, "no son it is not an order, it is however a promise to make your convalesce not much to your liking. I personally know that Maria and Teresa will pamper you with love and kindness, something I have no time for..."

Johnny had only nodded, not really backing down, because Johnny Madrid never backed down from a fight, "Ok I'll ride in that four wheeled shaker box, but only because _I _don't like yer bedside manners."

As an after thought Johnny smiled, "I know T'resa is pretty, what's Maria look like?"

Murdoch harrumphed, and Scott gave that little snicker he was getting good at and Sam just smiled, "Maria is an angel, you'll love her as much as we all do. But my dear young man she is a married woman, I would advise you to tread lightly."

Johnny could not wait to get to Lancer, one just to get away from this sawbones and the other to see pretty T'resa again and to see this _angel Maria, _everyone was gibbering about. Bowing his head, he glanced over at his father... _home_ on his mind.

'Dios the place was huge,' Johnny thought to himself as Murdoch pulled the carriage to a stop over looking the valley where the hacienda stood.

"Well look at that will ya," Johnny spouted then turned to his father, "You sure got a nice spread Ol' Man, it'd rival any of tha big estancias in Mexico."

Murdoch nodded, "I built this place for my sons. Fought tooth and nail and spilt blood to keep it. This is the platform for the Lancer legacy, for my two sons to build on and retain and pass it on to your sons and daughters."

Johnny bowed his head, how could he say 'no way."

It was obvious the old man loved this land, been optimistic of two sons to carry on his Lancer name. How could he tell him that Johnny Madrid, drifter, gun for hire and killer, was not what he needed to carry on his name?

Johnny sat deep in thought as Murdoch flicked the reins and had the horses in motion. Closer ever closer to what... he really had no idea.

His mouth growing dryer as the hacienda became bigger. What did the old man expect from him, he was a loner most of the time, faced what life handed him head on. He did not have much give or take, just lived day by day.

There had never been a point in his life to think about tomorrow let alone dream that there could be a future for Johnny Madrid.

There were a few men working within the compound, everyone had heard about the younger Lancer son and were eager to meet him.

Some of these men had been here when the dark haired boy was born; helped chase the never still scamp as he explored everything under the sun, the boy also had a knack for finding trouble but always forging ahead come hell or high water.

An indomitable spirit this one, Cipriano thought as he watched the buggy pull into the compound. He felt someone come to stand beside him and smiled at the blond haired son of the patron, "su hermano does not look very happy."

Scott had to agree with the segundo, "You should have heard the _'discussion' _with Doctor Jenkins about how my little brother was to return to Lancer. Shall we say that it was a good thing the boy couldn't wear his rig over the bandages on his side?"

Johnny could feel the eyes of the vaqueros on him; he was used to being measured and feared.

Murdoch pulled the carriage up to the front door, Cipriano and Scott were there waiting to assist him with Johnny.

With a slight nod to the two men, Murdoch remembered the heated discussion his younger boy had had with Sam... Well one thing that would have to change is that language; he would not tolerate border town talk in front of the women and children on the estancia.

Murdoch was no prude and he had let loose with a few well-chosen and colorful words himself, but Johnny's more _full of character _words were never for mixed company.

Johnny gave his brother a hesitant smile then proceeded to step down from the carriage, Cipriano and Scott moved forward to assist. Johnny glowered at them both, "I can do it," as he jammed the gun into the waist band of his calzoneras.

Scott stepped back and folded his arms; his brother was an independent little cuss. Well, Scott surmised, he would just pick the stubborn boy off the ground when he fell flat on his face.

Cipriano held a smile at the imaginative words that came out of the gunfighter's mouth as sore muscles and tight stitches made themselves known to the boy.

Murdoch had made his way around the carriage and grabbed hold of his sons arm, holding tight as the boy tried to wrench his arm out of his gentle but firm grasp, "John language... the women."

Johnny looked up through pain-filled eyes and saw the two women at the door. T'resa stood hands over her mouth and a stern, disapproving look from the older Mexican woman, Maria his angel?

He dropped his head and said somewhat loudly, "lo siento." Glancing up at the women he gave them a timid heartfelt grin, forgiving smiles were returned.

When his leg nearly buckled under him Scott grabbed the other side of his brother and leaned in, "Family is here to help you and one thing to remember _little brother_... Lancer will _always _take care of its own."

_**March 2014**_

_**solista**_


End file.
